


The Moon and All His Stars

by siba



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Fluff, I Tried, I just don't know, Jean cherrybomb, M/M, idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8971501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siba/pseuds/siba
Summary: Marco is a new bouncer at a local gay club. Upon arriving at his first day of work, he is quick to realize that things were not as he had been expecting. Especially as he runs into a beautiful exotic dancer named Jean Cherrybomb, the only man who can entrance an entire room in seconds.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fluffyaoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffyaoi/gifts).



> Hey! I'm your secret santa gifter, surprise! Ironically enough I've loved your art for some time and it was such a pleasure to create something based on an AU of yours. It truly was a ton of fun and I hope you enjoy!

It was an advertisement in the paper; a tiny square box lined in black, hidden in the corner of the job postings page on a Sunday morning. It was a simple little advertisement, one that read that there was a local club in need of men or women who could kick out patrons and keep the club a safe place for the local gay community. The job description seemed simple enough If Marco hadn’t been desperately looking for a job of any sort, he was sure that he would have likely missed the small advertisement for a bouncer needed. He learned very quickly after getting out of college, that a degree wasn’t a guarantee to land him a well-paying job and the lifestyle he had always hoped for by the age of twenty three. He’d worked a variety of jobs ever since he graduated, having been everything from a dog walker to a security guard every now and then. His goal for the time being was to get an apartment all to his own and in order to achieve that seemingly simple goal, he needed a consistent job that paid very well. Luckily, it seemed he had found his saving grace at Club Rose through that miniscule advertisement. The job offered him a nice salary to work from eight at night to four in the morning, six days a week with added health benefits and free food from the bar during the early hours of the morning. When he officially signed for a one year contract with the club as their bouncer, despite the odd comments he was receiving from the seemingly drunken bartender, Marco couldn’t have been any happier. Things were finally beginning to work in his favor.   
All reassurances couldn’t stop Marco from being nervous on his first day of this seemingly perfect job. Connie and Sasha told him time and time again that all he really needed to look out for, were those people who were being assholes in the line or in the bar. Connie always finished off with ‘But who is an asshole at a gay bar? It’s called Gay for a reason.’ The joke couldn’t have been more overused or any more terrible than it already was, but it never failed to make Marco smile and ease up his worrying for the time being. Although as he prepared for his first night as a bouncer, no matter how many times he told himself the stupid joke and paced around his tiny bedroom, he couldn’t shake the anxiety that was clamping down on his chest and making it that much more difficult to drag himself to his car. Marco did anything that he could before leaving to calm himself down. He drank tea, did jumping jacks, tried to follow a meditation for the first time although he was entirely sure he was doing it wrong because he wanted to take a nap rather than sit there listening to some woman chant through his phone speakers. Slowly but surely, the time came in which he got into his car and began the short ten minute drive to club Rose   
Marco hadn’t ever been to Club Rose, it was a never ending cycle of never having time or money and such clubs were not cheap by any means. Marco also liked to call himself an old fashioned kind of guy, he liked the idea of meeting someone while drinking coffee at Starbucks and sharing a moment. Just the two of them rather than a whole crowd of guys sharing in on that same moment. The idea of a club did not strike him as one that he would enjoy so for the most part he stayed away. As he sat outside of the club, three minutes until he was to report for his shift, the freckled man did all that he could to calm himself down. Perhaps he should have listened to that chanting woman from the meditation thing so that he could know how to find his inner peace at a time like this.   
After two minutes and a complete lack of inner peace, he knew that it was time to head inside, lest be he considered late on his first day of work.The back door was where, for the first time, the overwhelming smell of perfume and alcohol hit his nose like a truck, assaulting his every one of his senses until he was simply staring ahead at what appeared to be a dressing room. Everywhere he looked, there were mirrors lined with lights, covering the walls and lighting up every inch of that room. There were various parts of what Marco assumed to be costumes lying about, pants, feather boas and shirts thrown about the room and piled on every discernable surface. He would have to ask about how the club became a theatre, yet for the time being he stepped past the dressing room and towards the hallway that lead back out into the club.   
The hustle and bustle of the club was uncanny and truly unlike anything Marco had ever seen, or expected of a Gay club. The DJ had already set himself up just beside the runway leading from the stage to the middle of the club; his booth lit up with a rainbow of lights that cast blazing rays onto the floor in front of him. The stage was illuminated by a rainbow as well, starting with a bright yellow hue off to the far left and ending in a rather rich violet off to the right. The floor of the stage resembled the stars, a pitch black plastic that was littered with silver specks. The moon was the lights shining down upon the specks of stars and reflecting all of the colors that could ever possibly exist and that had existed; at least those that Marco knew of. If he had the option, he would have taken all night to look at that shining floor and watch as the colors shifted and entranced the new bouncer.   
His duty made him avert his eyes and look ahead, towards where waiters in more than skimpy outfits were setting up what looked to be VIP tables, complete with a curtain around the table that blocked most of what could be going on there. Really Marco didn't want to think about it, whatever went on in the club wasn't his business unless someone got hurt or needed to be kicked out and even in those cases, a part of him didn't even want the details of why. Thus he continued walking, past the bar and the tall blonde drying out some glasses with a rag and his smaller, scarier counterpart who seemed too enthralled in his own voice to notice the new guy. Marco walked, weaving through tables until he finally found the one face he recognized in a sea of uncertainty. His name was Mike and between the two bouncers working at all times, Mike was always one of them. He had been the guy to successfully scare the shit out of Marco while also convincing him that this was a great job, all of which occurred in the span of his thirty minute interview.   
Marco always liked to compare Mike to the giant from The Princess Bride, large and intimidating when no one knew him. Although he hadn’t yet gotten past that point of intimidation, he just hoped that there was a soft center to this otherwise terrifying man. “Hey!” Apparently Marco’s greeting was enough for the giant of a man to turn around, revealing the matching shirt they wore with ‘Security’ in solid white letters and the common black theme that their clothing shared.   
“It’s good to see you again!” At least, that was what he told himself as he tried not to focus on the sheer difference in their heights and the genuine fear that Mike could kill Marco with one blow.   
“Likewise.”   
He learned early on that Mike was a man of very few words and his responses were often limited to several grunts, potentially a nod if he found something interesting.   
“So-...where do you want me to work today?” As the head of security, it was Mike’s call to ensure that everyone had a good time and stayed safe. How exactly Mike became the head of security at a gay bar, Marco had no clue but he definitely wanted to hear that story.  
“You’ll be inside today, Stay near the walls and blend in. If you see anything that looks like assault or violence, everyone involved is out.” The instructions seemed simple enough and there wasn’t a second wasted before Mike handed Marco a walkie-talkie and made his way towards the main doors of the club. Rose wasn’t supposed to open for another half an hour but Marco assumed that Mike was just beginning his own job of watching over the crowds. The tense sensations he had felt just moments before melted away as his back rested against the wall of the club, at least he wouldn’t have to be the guy standing at the front door and determining whether someone got into the club or not. He would have caved in and let everyone in, despite gender and ability to pay the cover charge and most likely have gotten fired because of it.   
After the doors had opened and the masses poured in, filling the rainbow colored room and giving the LED lights something to shine on, Marco passed the time by people watching. On occasion he would weave his way through a crowd, looking for any sign of distress and or strife in the crowd of grinding and drinking men and women. Every surface and area of the club had at least four people in it, the VIP tables were booked and being waited on, the bar was crawling with drunkards trying to get their fourth round of shots or order another strawberry daiquiri. Those first few hours, were the epitome of perfection in a gay bar. No one had to get kicked out nor did anyone vomit and then subsequently be kicked out for that. The trouble started around eleven at night when a man threw punches at another man for hitting on his boyfriend; all of whom stunk of gin and tonic as Marco dragged them out. That was the catalyst for every angry boyfriend it seemed because Marco had to throw out at least two other couples in a half an hour span, dragging their drunk asses outside and making sure they got off of club property before beginning to fight again. One of his more interesting experience was with an older couple, one of whom began screaming on the sidewalk about how his partner liked the vibrator more than himself.   
Marco returned to the interior of Club Rose at exactly eleven forty two, thanks to the vibrator couple who couldn’t seem to comprehend the fact that they had to go home and fight about this rather than stand on the sidewalk and shout it through the city. When he returned to the club, much to his surprise, the scene was something far from what it had been when he left. The dance floor, that had once been the sight of numerous couples and groups grinding against one another in a daze, was replaced with brilliant black circular tables with chairs all around and facing the stage. There was no chair left empty and people lined the bar, sipping at their various drinks and chatting happily in the low light of the club. The rainbow lights of the stage were still there, illuminating the stage in vibrant colors and adding to the alluring atmosphere created by the music playing in the background. It was most definitely a sight to behold, so unlike how the club had been just thirty minutes before.   
Marco was more than willing to accept these changes, but not without reason. The flustered bouncer made his way towards the bar, catching the eye of the taller and less intimidating bartender.   
“You know, when Mike said he hired a new kid I didn’t expect you to be so quick to ask for a drink on the first night.” The blonde says as he hurriedly moves to place another mixed drink on the counter and pick up the tip left behind for him.   
“No I-” Marco couldn’t even get out a full sentence before the blonde was laughing, shooting the clearly confused Marco a reassuring smile. At least it was more reassuring than the glare Marco received in turn from the smaller bartender.   
“It’s alright kid. Name’s Erwin. What do you want?” He ignored the elbow to the ribs he received from his counterpart and instead, continues to mix drinks like he wasn’t having a full blown conversation.   
“Why did the club change? I just left to take some guys outside and when I came back-” That seemed to be enough of an explanation for the shorter of the two bartenders, shot Marco a glare that made his blood run cold and the hair on the back of his neck stand up.   
“Listen Brat, the place becomes a strip joint around this time every night. Got it? Don’t fucking freak out because super sniffer didn’t tell you.” For being such a small man, he truly had a bark that was probably just as bad as his bite. Unlike Marco, Erwin didn’t seem as fased as Marco was, he merely rolled his eyes and slipped what looked to be a glass of water towards the new guy.  
“Don’t mind Levi, he’s just upset because once the strip show begins, people tip for shit around here.” Marco was about to say something along the lines of that he was sorry people didn’t tip well and that perhaps they should make tips mandatory, but his entire thought process was derailed by a new pace of music and a new volume assaulting his ears. An unknown announcer’s voice replaced the music for just a moment, “Welcome to Club Rose ladies and gents, how are the drinks this evening?” The entirety of the room seemed to shout, everyone except for the confused bouncer on his first day the bartenders who were too flooded with drink orders to even appreciate that the audience was paying them tribute.   
“Well, We here at Club Rose would like to formally welcome each and every one of you to the best strip joint in town.” There was a brief pause as more people began to cheer, some taking the opportunity, such as Marco, to sip at their drinks and watch how the stage went dark.   
“To start off our evening, we have the man who not only is going to take your cherry, but is going to blow your mind. Give a warm welcome to Jean Cherrybomb!” If Marco had previously thought that the audience had been loud, there was no denying that they reached a new decibel with the announcement that this man was going to be on stage. He wasn’t entirely sure from the angle in which he was sitting, but he thought that he even saw some panties flying onto the corner of the stage. Yet when the lights rose and he could finally, potentially see the panties sitting off to the side of the stage, his almond eyes were fixed on the man standing in the middle of the stage. This ‘Cherrybomb’ stood in what appeared to be a cowboy’s outfit, complete with the gallon hat, leather vest and chaps, everything that Marco associated with some cheesy western. So unlike a cheesy western, Marco could not take his eyes off of this man. Even if for some reason he wanted to, the moment that the music began and Cherrybomb began to stalk down that catwalk, Marco was completely entranced by every sway of his hips. It must have been a good minute before Marco realized yet again that there was music playing and this man was dancing to it, stripping off that flimsy leather vest as he moved his body to the rhythm of the music. The vest was tossed to the side in a haphazard manner, right about the time that Marco had to take a sip of water to quench his dry mouth. Cherrybomb was the moon above the stars in that moment, standing brilliantly above the shining stage and making it so that he shone brighter and all attention was on him. Even the smirk on his face was enough to keep everyone looking his direction, not to mention the perfectly sculpted abdomen and assless chaps that kept the audience, Marco included, entranced This man had most definitely earned the title of Cherrybomb, although John was such a plain name that Marco figured it must have been a fake to keep the creeps away-  
“Hey kid, I know it’s your first night and he’s hot and all, but you best get that guy by the stage. I can tell you right now he’s about to jump on that stage and make that pretty show not so pretty, especially after the five rounds of Vodka shots he’s downed in an hour-” Fuck.   
As soon as Erwin mentioned it, there was a man down by the stage, holding up a large wad of cash with a grin that clearly said he was not in his right mind. Based on how he had one leg on a nearby chair and was just about to earn the attention of the Cherrybomb on stage, this wasn’t going to go well.   
“Shit-” It was a miracle that Marco didn’t slam down the water in his hand or drop it, either would have earned him several long sessions of scolding from Levi for weeks, he was sure. He didn’t even know how he weaved his way through those tables without tripping and or pushing over a waiter. The entire situation happened so fast that before he could blink, he was suddenly grabbing onto this guy just seconds before he could spring up onto the stage and steal the show. Although it seemed as if the guy had given Cherrybomb the money before deciding to join him on stage, since when he came down with Marco, he had nothing in his hands to prevent him from trying to take a swing at the freckled bouncer. It was luck, and most likely those five rounds of vodka shots, that made it so Marco could easily avoid this attempted assault and grab the man so that he could easily drag him out of the club.   
“It’s time to go-” Marco grunts, dragging the man backwards and away from the stage as he wiggles in Marco’s arms and complains with slurred sentences and mumbled curses. For the most part, only a few people dared to look away from Cherrybomb and towards some bouncer with a drunken asshole.   
The process of dragging the man outside to Mike, once he finally gave up, was relatively easy. Unlike earlier in the night, that one incident wasn’t a catalyst for more drunken assholes to begin to do the same, which made Marco’s job that much easier up until the club closed at four in the morning. When four am had rolled around, the strippers had really stopped performing, they were all just as tired as the five people still sitting in the audience who were too drunk to get up of their own free will. Again, Marco took it upon himself to drag four men and one drunken woman outside so that they could make their way home. He made sure they were all conscious and had some sort of ride coming for them before he returned to the inside of the club. Like clockwork, the tables had been taken down and all of the dirty glasses were being bussed back to an area behind the bar by several waiters. Erwin and Levi seemed to busy all on their own, the former of the two was trying to clean off the bar from what looked like a spilled drink while Levi washed dishes with a fervor that could make any man shake.   
Technically his shift was over and for the first time in his life Marco was far too exhausted to offer his assistance to anyone. His number one priority was to crawl into his bed and curl up under his blankets. There he knew that he could forget about a club full of assholes who try to grope half naked strangers on stage as well as forget about the striking stench of alcohol that had erased all ability to smell anything else ever again. Marco was fishing in his pockets for his car keys, walking towards the back door at a snail’s pace when he heard someone whistle.   
“You’re that new bouncer right?”   
“Huh? Yea-” When he looked up, keys in hand and cell phone in the other, Marco hadn’t expected to see Cherrybomb himself. Although the outfit was much different than the one on stage, not that sweatpants and a tshirt didn’t suit this greek god of a man. A part of Marco wanted to ask how exactly it was possible that in this blue low light, in simple clothes, and after working for nearly eight hours that this guy could still look as if he had just stepped out of a GQ photoshoot. First, he figured he should close his mouth before he started drooling.  
“I saw you take down that asshole during my first performance. It was impressive.” Cherrybomb didn’t even waver as he held out his hand, using the other to hold up what appeared to be a navy blue gym bag. “I’m Jean.”  
In such a crucial moment for first impressions, of all moments to be a clutz, Marco somehow decided that it was best to go about this by dropping his car keys and shaking Jean’s hand with the recently freed hand. If Jean didn’t think Marco was a complete fuck up by now, he wasn’t entirely sure that he ever would see it.   
“Shit-..Marco. I’m Marco.” As if it wasn’t bad enough, as soon as he released Jean’s surprisingly soft hand, he bent down to pick up his keys. Marco just hoped that the blue lights they were under masked the red that was lining his face. Everything seemed fine from the point of view of Jean based on how he chuckled and offered Marco a smile as he stood back up.   
“Well, I’m glad to have a good bouncer around here to keep us safe. Some people can be real dicks-” A loud vibration could be heard from his pocket, followed by a muffled rendition of a Jack Johnson song that Marco couldn’t place his finger on right away despite the familiar tune. “Shit, I’m sorry. That’s my ride. I’ll see you tomorrow, yea?” Jean rushes forward, hurriedly making his way towards the front door with his phone to his ear and already mumbling an apology by the time Marco’s mind caught up to his mouth to formulate some sort of response that wouldn’t make him sound like a total ass.   
“Yea, see you...”  
It was only a few days later during that Saturday night that Marco found himself talking with the Cherrybomb, or Jean, once again. Over the past few days, Marco had gotten the hang of his job as an inside bouncer and could easily tell now what was going to happen minutes before it came to fruition. It allowed him time to asses the situation and make sure that everyone was going to be safe. He also learned very quickly that between the two bartenders, Erwin made the best food and Levi made the better drinks if they were anything besides water or a soda. He wouldn’t trust Levi near a stove nor Erwin near a mixed drink, lest either one of them mess something up and somehow make Marco sick during his shift.   
That Saturday night was like any other except the the house was booked, many of whom were there to see Jean Cherrybomb. Not that Marco could blame them by any means, he had seen Jean’s routine day after day and time and time again was he entranced by the blonde and brunette and how he moved. But that also lead to problems at times, people who got a little too handsy or would try to push the money down Jean’s jockstrap in a manner that was borderline groping. That was when Marco had to step in and take those, usually heavily inebriated, individuals outside and make sure that they didn’t come back for the duration of the night nor harass anyone else who may try to come in or out. For a Saturday night, having to throw out only three people before one in the morning defined a relatively easy night. The shit storm didn’t arrive until after two in the morning, after a group of frat guys had a drinking competition and successfully drank one of their friends into an ambulance, but not before vomiting all over Marco and causing an early shutdown to the club because of the mass panic at the fact that there was an ambulance outside. By two forty five, four of the six frat guys were in ambulances for immense alcohol consumption. Apparently they had been bar hopping, so by the time they arrived for Jean’s show, they were beyond hammered.   
At three am on the dot, Marco had made sure that the club was clear of everyone who didn’t work there before he sat down at a bar stool and slipped off his shirt that was soaked in vomit. He spared no time in throwing the shirt in the trash and heading towards the employee bathroom beside the strippers’ dressing room. Levi had given him enough death glares to know that he needed to clean up before daring to ask anything from him in regards to food or drink. He was halfway to the bathroom when he heard a familiar whistle as well as what sounded like hurried footsteps behind him. “Marco-”   
Needless to say, he was surprised when he heard that it was Jean behind him. A part of Marco wanted to say hello and talk, but the other stronger part of him just wanted to clean himself up and get on home. Nevertheless, he turns around, offering Jean a smile that was etched with exhaustion and was nowhere reaching his freckled cheeks or almond eyes.   
“Hey Jean-” What made it even worse, was that Jean was still in his police costume from the last number that got cut short by the club closing. This was a relatively conservative costume and covered most of Jean’s body, although that didn’t stop it from being so tight that Marco could very nearly imagine what he couldn’t see.   
“Listen, tonight’s been a shit night, do you want to go out for something to eat?” The offer was beyond tempting, but Marco didn’t say anything and merely motioned towards his chest that was still covered with frat boy vomit.   
“Oh shit, that’s right-” The blonde ran a hand through his hair, staring shamelessly at that freckled chest under the guise that he was looking at the vomit that covered him. At least he had an excuse. “Listen, let’s get you cleaned up and then go grab something from Burger King. It’ll be on me alright?”   
The freckled bouncer just nods, following Jean as he leads him towards the employee bathroom. Marco hadn’t had such a difficult and frustrating night ever since he was still a student and he’d forgotten how exhausting it was. Perhaps that was why he didn’t notice that Jean had taken several paper towels and was beginning to wipe off what remained of the vomit from Marco’s chest. Suddenly, there was a warm paper towel against his abdomen and an even warmer golden gaze streaking across his skin, playing connect the dots with every freckle from Marco’s cheeks down to the top of his jeans.   
“You don’t have to do this.” If anything, Marco felt even worse for giving Jean the impression that he needed to do something like this.   
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You’ve saved my ass a lot this week. I owe you one.” A companionable silence continued between them, the sounds of the club had faded away until all Marco was focusing on was the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t help but worry that Jean would notice that his chest was going crazy as if he was having a heart attack. If Jean noticed, he said nothing on the subject matter and continued wiping off all that he could see of the vomit with a concoction of water and soap. That is, until he stopped at a bright pink scar by Marco’s left shoulder. The skin was still puckered from the recent recovery and when the cool rag touched against it, a shiver ran through Marco’s body as well as a sudden wave of heat that made his cheeks that much redder.   
“How’d that happen?” It was a simple enough question, anyone would ask it if they were cleaning vomit off of another man’s chest, right?  
“My jobs haven’t always been easy ‘round here..” Marco murmurs, tilting his chin down so that he was able to watch how the shadows on Jean’s face sculpted his features. “I used to be a security guard at the mall. It was a good job until one day some guy walks in with a knife-” No matter how many times he said it, he always got that same reaction of surprise from whoever heard the story. Just as others had before, Jean’s bright eyes went wide at the new information. For the most part, everyone had assumed that Marco was new to security because Mike hadn’t told anyone otherwise.   
“What happened?” Jean breathes, turning his gaze back towards Marco’s freckled chest and opting to listen in that manner than rather stare up at the attractive bouncer.  
“I took him down, but I got a bad injury to my shoulder and the mall had to let me go.” The mall had been struggling with finances anyways, they couldn’t afford to have an injured security guard on their payroll. So they’d made up some excuse that he missed too many days of work and used that for the grounds to fire him. What happened, happened. It only left behind a puckered pink scar for proof that it really happened. For several long seconds, Jean merely finishes cleaning Marco’s chest, rubbing circles against the soft and taut skin with the paper towel until he could find it in himself to speak.   
“You seem like a good guy, Marco.”   
“You do too, Jean.” For the rest of their time spent in that bathroom, in some vain attempt to clean Marco up and make him look presentable enough to go to Burger King, there was a light silence hanging in the air. One that wasn’t broken until Jean was done cleaning Marco as best as he could and was leading him out of the bathroom with the promise that he could borrow one of Jean’s shirts for the night. He ended up in a plaid button down shirt, one that was far too small for his frame but provided Jean with all of the entertainment in the world by giving him the opportunity to tease Marco about becoming a stripper on their shared drive to Burger King.   
Half an hour at the Burger King turned into one hour, then two in the morning. Finally when it was nearly six in the morning, Marco made the short drive back to Jean’s apartment and offered him nothing but goofy smiles that were highlighted by exhaustion. Jean was just about to step out of the car when he turns around, casting one more glance back at the freckled bouncer and giving him a smile that was even better than the smirks on stage.   
“Listen Marco-..I know we don’t work tomorrow. But I was thinking that maybe we could go get some real food. Ya’ know? Something other than shitty fries at the only place that’s open-” Jean wasn’t the best at this, but he was sure as hell trying.   
“Y’know, more like a formal thing..” Jean mumbled, watching as the freckled dork beside him raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. Why the fuck did he have to look like a lost puppy when he did that.   
“I want to go on a date with you, Marco. That way we can work on your stripper name-”   
As it turns out, Jean Cherrybomb was just as bad at the whole dating thing as he was. That was some reassurance and it gave Marco the courage to nod, “I’d love to.”


End file.
